Purrfect
by FanficFixation
Summary: After an argument with Dean, Castiel goes for a walk to clear his head. He feels lost after the fall, until unexpectedly; he finds solace in an abandoned furry feline.


**Purrfect**

It was another gloomy autumn day in Lebanon Kansas, and the sky was cluttered with ominous looking black and grey tinged clouds. It wouldn't be long before the heavens opened and the rain began to pour, yet despite this, Castiel found himself wandering the streets aimlessly in the late hours of the afternoon.

The fallen angel shivered, pulling his navy hooded jacket tighter around his frame to shield his human body from the cold wind. He released an audible sigh as he strolled along the quiet roadside, pondering his decision to venture out into the barbaric weather in the first place.

To say that things had been tense in the bunker lately would be somewhat of an understatement.

When Castiel and his brothers and sisters fell from heaven, he had been most thankful for Sam and Dean's friendship. He was lucky, and unlike the other angels he had a place to live and people to look out for him. He spent nearly all of his time inside the bunkers walls, wandering aimlessly through the hallways and venturing up and down the spiralling staircases, contemplating his new life as a human.

Apparently he was dealing with what humans would call a 'mid-life crisis', and while Castiel was left to his own devices, Sam and Dean had been bombarded with cases one after the other, leaving them tired and irritable, particularly Dean.

Stress levels had been gradually rising for a while; whenever the brothers returned after a tedious drive, Dean grew snappy when he noticed Castiel hiding in his room.

The ex-angel had continued to keep his distance from the hunter, trying his best not to aggravate his ferocious temper.

So far it had worked, until earlier that evening.

The last hunt had turned sour, that much was obvious from the sound of slamming doors emerging from various places throughout the vicinity, accompanied by the audible racket of Dean's heavy footsteps thundering across the ageing floorboards.

Sam's expression was as pensive as always as he proceeded to kick off his boots, trailing after his brother.

Dean's temper was a time bomb, and it was when Cas decided to greet the Winchesters that it had finally exploded.

'Hey Cas, have you even moved since we left?'

The former angel raised a single brow inquisitively as he studied the eldest Winchester; he'd done something wrong, that much was obvious as he assessed Dean's body language.

Perhaps he was just tired, or at least that's what Castiel convinced himself until Dean's attitude became increasingly hostile.

'Me and Sam nearly got our asses handed to us today, while you've been sitting here twiddling your thumbs.'

'Dean, stop it.'

The Winchester proceeded to ignore his brother, persisting with his bitter rant, his tone laced with clear disapproval.

'You know what? Feel free to help out around here whenever you feel like it!'

'Dean, I don't understand-'

He interjected with a curt laugh before retorting accusingly, 'of course you don't. You don't understand _anything,_ do you? You just sit here, moping around all day, just sponging off of me and Sam!'

Castiel retreated backwards, recoiling as though he had just been struck in the face.

'You think I'm moping? I'm sorry Dean, but I _am_ trying-'

'You know what? I don't want to hear your excuses,' Dean countered irritably. 'I know you're upset. You lost your mojo Cas, but you've got to deal with it and move on!'

For the first time in months, Castiel found his grief evolving into anger.

Dean had absolutely no idea.

'Dean, you don't know how it feels-'

'We've all got problems Cas. It doesn't mean that yours are more important.'

Castiel's hands balled into a tight fists as he turned sharply on his heel, forcing himself to walk away before things escalated any further; Dean's sharp words resonated throughout the hallway as he headed hastily for the door.

'That's it, go! Just disappear like you always do!'

That was how Castiel ended up wondering along the roadside that late and cold afternoon.

He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd left the bunker, although judging by the stiffness in his cold and leaden limbs it had to have been more than a few measly hours. He had just let his feet carry him off into the distance as far away from the scene as possible, attempting to deal with the overwhelming tangle of emotions raging inside of him.

Dean didn't understand how he'd felt since falling.

His grace had been everything to him, and since Metatron had stolen it, he was beyond devastated. To steal an angels grace was the human equivalent of amputation- he wasn't sure he would ever fully recover from the shock.

Now here he was, walking aimlessly through the chill as he struggled to find meaning in his new human life.

He finally understood why Dean was so angry.

Now that Castiel was no longer an angel, he was as good as useless.

He spent his days wallowing in self-pity in his room, mourning the loss of his power.

Perhaps he should try to be more useful.

Cas was pulled from his inner musings when unexpectedly, a droplet of rain landed on his nose, causing him to glance up at the grey sky with a sigh of irritation. He glanced down at his thin jacket and the cotton pants that were slowly beginning to cling to his skin, logged with water; perhaps it was finally time to face his demons and return to the bunker.

He was just minutes away from his destination when the rain began to fall _hard;_ His socks felt damp inside his water logged shoes, water cascading across his cheeks as the sky began to weep, lashing mercilessly against his sodden form.

'_Meow!' _

Castiel paused.

He could have sworn that he'd heard something.

Surveying the scene with a frown of confusion, he was greeted with nothing but the sight of the wet roadside and an unsightly pile of trash, which consisted of some split garbage bags and an array of sodden boxes.

He dismissed the sound and continued to walk, grimacing at the unpleasant sensation of wet fabric clinging to his skin.

It was probably just the wind, or so he's assumed until the noise wailed again, much louder this time.

'_Mew!'_

That was most definitely _not_ the wind.

He approached the trash cautiously; peering into several boxes and seeing nothing of interest, he began to question his sanity, that was until a small movement caught his attention.

Prying back the lid of one of the sodden cardboard boxes, he flinched when he saw something small and grey curled into a damp ball, his eyes widening in surprise when a pair of sad blue orbs gazed back at him.

It was a kitten.

He stared at the animal for a short while when the kitten began to wail again noisily.

'Meowwwwww.'

The sound was pitifully distressing; Castiel felt a pang of remorse for the poor, defenseless animal.

He carefully reached down into the box and offered his hand to the wet creature, allowing it to sniff and nudge at his fingertips before he stroked the damp mop of fur on top of its head.

The fallen angel felt an inkling of anger.

How could anyone abandon an animal that was so young and vunerable?

The kitten shivered pitifully, gravitating towards the warmth radiating from the palm of his hand.

Castiel looked deep into the kittens eyes as he contemplated the best course of action, its big blue orbs reminding him of his very own.

The kitten squinted heavily as more raindrops landed on its head; the animal couldn't be more than a few weeks old.

It was barely the size of his hand.

A loud crack of thunder caused Castiel to flinch, the rain suddenly beginning to pour even harder.

He knew that it would be wise to head back to the bunker before the weather became even worse. The loud thunder and distant glow of lightening was starting to rival even Dean's foul temper.

'Meow.'

Without any hesitation, he plucked the drenched ball of fur from the tattered box and tucked its tiny body against his chest and his damp jacket.

Castiel couldn't leave the kitten behind; he would never forgive himself if he left one of God's delicate young creatures to succumb to the cold.

As he continued to battle against the elements, he couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at his lips as the small head peered curiously out of the fabric of his jacket. He could feel already that the shivering was beginning to subside.

It wouldn't be long before they reached the bunker, and Cas could change out of his wet clothes and make his four legged companion much more comfortable.

Castiel felt a twinge of concern when he thought about the Winchester brothers.

What would Sam and Dean have to say about bringing an animal into their home?

He was already in enough trouble.

Cas was interrupted from his thoughts when he felt a faint rumbling sensation again his chest. He glanced down at the damp kitten pressed again his skin, beaming in amusement as its fur tickled at the bottom his chin.

There was no way he was leaving the Kitten now.

It would have to remain a secret.


End file.
